


Eavesdrop

by MistressSiM



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Haha I'm trash, Morning Sex, light exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressSiM/pseuds/MistressSiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Chloe, though, is that she's got selective hearing and a one-track mind, so by the time she's pressing kisses into her navel, Max knows she may as well go along for the ride. </p><p>She doesn't really want to stop her, anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eavesdrop

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been translated into  
> [Czech](http://utsukushii-akumu.blog.cz/1702/eavesdrop)

"How long have you been watching me sleep?" Max sighs, not bothering to open her eyes.

She yawns and rubs at her eyes with the heel of each palm, arching her back to stretch. Her movement is hindered by Chloe, who has shouldered her way between Max's thighs and laid her head on her stomach.

"'Lil bit," Chloe says, flippant. 

"Liar." Max hums.

"Like Loki." Chloe's cheerful reply pulls a surprised laugh from Max. 

Playfully, Max squeezes Chloe's ribs with her legs, reaching down to run her fingers through her hair. Her fingers delve past thick blue locks, to the golden roots beneath, and then further to reach her scalp and lightly scratch. Chloe sighs in contentment, pressing a kiss of thanks into her skin.

It's really nice, this: waking up and having Chloe there, even though she'll likely get in trouble for it. Blackwell allows visits, not sleepovers, but Chloe knows good and well what she does to Max's resolve. All she had to do last night was strip down to her underwear and climb under the covers. It helps that it's the weekend, but it will still be a hassle explaining Chloe to the other girls in the dorm, who regularly smuggle guys into their rooms, but might not be as understanding of a blue-haired, loud mouthed girl strutting about like she owns the place (which is what Chloe does everywhere).

"Stop fucking thinking so loud," Chloe says, pulling on the waist band of Max's panties and then letting it go. Max squirms.

"I'm not—"

"If anybody gives you shit, let me know."

"But Chloe, I—what are you doing, Chloe?"

She lifts her hips to allow her girlfriend to pull her panties down her legs, reddening in understanding when she pulls Max's thighs up onto her shoulders a moment later.

"Chloe, you shouldn't be—"

"Shut up, I wanna eat you out."

Blushing, Max nods, and hides her face in her hands. As Chloe moves down her body, leaving kisses in her wake, she wonders if there's a way to dissuade her from going any further. 

The thing about Chloe, though, is that she's got selective hearing and a one-track mind, so by the time she's pressing kisses into her navel, Max knows she may as well go along for the ride.

She doesn't really want to stop her, anyways.

Chloe lovesdoing this, though Max can't, for the life of her, understand why. Every single time, she worries about how she looks, how she smells, how she tastes.This always starts with her covering her face, curious put painfully embarrassed, until the pleasure that comes washes away her inhibitions, and Chloe grabs her hands and holds on tight through it all.

Chloe spreads her with two fingers, and then abruptly licks a path from her entrance to her clit, expertly riding the involuntary buck of Max's hips. Slender fingers delve between her inner and outer lips, pressing, rubbing. Chloe's free hand smooths up her side, sliding underneath her tank top to cup her breast, flicking and twirling the peak of her sensitive nipple. When she finds a sensitive spot near the hood of Max's clit, she lingers, swirling her tongue until Max cries out, and then she moves on, finally sucking her clit into her mouth. She's wet enough for Chloe to slide two fingers inside of her, setting a slow rhythm. 

There is a knock on Max's door. She shoots up, eyes wide, and stares at the door. (She hates herself for the twinge of excitement that blossoms in her chest.)

"Max?" Dana calls. "Are you okay? You've been in there all morning. You said you wanted to take some pictures of me today. Did you forget?"

She's about to reply, somehow, make some lame joke and send Dana away, but Chloe wraps her arms around her thighs and pulls with savage strength, until her back hits the mattress again, and Max's wet slit is pressed back into her face. Max gasps, sliding her hand into Chloe's hair.

Chloe thrusts her fingers back inside, one at a time, and crooks them both inside her, while pressing the palm of her hand down on her lower belly. Max arches her back to search for the white-hot sensation that follows, her mouth falling open. She doesn't remember when her hands went from her face to the bedspread, digging in tightly, or when she sat up to lock gazes with Chloe, whose sharp eyes spell dirty promises. She _must_ know,somehow, about the sharp thrill that ran through her at the idea that someone is standing right outside her door. She crooks her fingers again, her tongue pressed flat against her clit, and Max hisses a low curse. Chloe chuckles against her, and the vibrations have her toes tingling and curling, her stomach heaving against the tight knot of heat the forms there.

"Max? You don't sound good." 

"I'm okay, Dana!" The last word comes out extra sharp. Chloe's hand travels back up her body, cupping her breast again, a warm, calloused source of stimulation.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Mmm!"

Chloe brushes her teeth against her clit, once, and then again, and Max is gone, bucking and moaning, her head thrown back against the pillows. Chloe cradles her hips and holds her as she rides the wave of her orgasm. She dips the tip of her tongue into Max's entrance, sending her into a wave of trembling aftershocks. She whimpers when Chloe pulls away and maneuvers her onto her side, closing her thighs. She reaches a hand out to try and pull her back. Chloe kisses her palm, lips still wet with Max's arousal, and then kisses her thigh. She wipes her face dry on the mattress.

Chloe stands—and was she really dressed the whole time?—and heads for the door. Max, too blissed out from orgasm to care, pulls the covers tighter around her and faces the wall, still panting. She squeezes her thighs around the pleasant warmth between them.

Chloe opens the door.

"Let her rest," She says. "She gets sleepy after she comes."

Max can just  _hear_ the smug grin in her voice. Dana sputters an apology, and flees.

Chloe retrieves her beanie cap and jacket from the floor.

"You've got some 'splainin' to do, babe."

"Mmm," Max agrees. 

Chloe chuckles. The bed dips under her weight. She kisses Max's cheek, pats her bottom affectionately, and then she leaves. The lingering smell of cigarette smoke and coconut shampoo is the only proof that she was ever there.

She won't be able to look Dana in the eye for months. Victoria and her cronies will have a field day. Warren will be heartbroken.

Max will deal with the repercussions later.

**Author's Note:**

> (Somebody please tell me there's a class called "Titling 101" because I need to take it)
> 
> This was written partly to banish writer's block, and mostly because I'm apparently trash for Chloe and Max. I'm not sorry.
> 
> chat me up on tumblrpoo [my Tumblr](http://sim-writes.tumblr.com). 
> 
> I read over this, but it _was_ posted from a phone, so please excuse (and tell me about!) any mistakes I left behind.


End file.
